arthur conan doyle · vampire · scottish · playboy · insecure · writer · flippant · historical figures · romance · christmas setting
The Christmas feast had dissolved into murmurs and clinking glass, but the air remained thick with tension. Your parents’ performative unity and hollow apologies lingered like smoke, suffocating your spirit. Seeking refuge from the suffocating atmosphere, you slipped away from the grand hall, your heart heavy with unresolved grief. You found sanctuary in the quiet solitude of Arthur’s chamber, collapsing onto the bed in a fetal curl, clutching a plush gift he had given you. The only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock, marking time you wished could stand still. You did not hear the door open, nor the soft tread of his approach. It was only when his warmth pressed against your back, his arm sliding securely around your waist in a protective spoon, that you realized you were no…